


sticks and stones and broken bones

by solitariusvirtus



Series: laconics [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AUs galore, Also these tags, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Because I care, Crazy, Don't think that I don't hear you guys, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, For the haters, Let the hate flow, Medieval Society, Middle Ages, Modern Era, Romance, Satiricon, Snippets, This is just for you, xoxo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-11 18:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5637448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/solitariusvirtus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of strictly Lyanna/Rhaegar drabbles.</p><blockquote>
  <p>Do your worst. Maybe insanity will pay off.  </p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	1. With Love

**Author's Note:**

> For all those who keep asking me to just stop writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been getting a lot of messages like this lately:
> 
> I decided to give these requests a true answer. The answer they deserve. To show that I (don't) care.

Lyanna rests her head on her hands, eyes trained on the man. “Do you think they despise us?” Rhaegar gives her a dry look. His silence has this strange effect, it makes her giddy and annoyed at the same time. She doesn’t even begin to know how to explain this. The she-wolf shifts uncomfortably beneath the weight of his stare. 

“It’s dreadfully hot out there,” she points out without the calm she would have liked. “I just feel that we could be creating some resentment, is all. What with us being here, drinking iced milk and them cooking out there in the sun.”

“Do you really want to share all this with them?” the Prince asks, one eyebrow raising in question.  
Silence.

A hesitant shift.

A mumble.

“Nay.” The decisive reply.

“Then just make your move,” Rhaegar says, attention returning to the board with all its pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, them haters who feel like commenting, feel free to give me more fuel. 
> 
> Ta ta!


	2. A Touch Of Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next opinion is brought to you courtesy of that belief stating that if at first you fail, try, try again.
> 
>  
> 
>  

Not a word is spoken for the longest time. “Are we sure that it’s harmless?” The maiden fair sits astride her valiant Prince, skirts raised high, indecently so. The small vial is still in his hands, stopper protecting the powder from outside corruption.

“Of course we are,” Rhaegar answers somewhat distracted. Because everyone knows that there is nothing suspicious about old hags selling vials of unknown origin in the market. Aye, it completely unjustified to be the least bit suspicious of such individuals. The scathing consideration keeps Lyanna company since her lover won’t.

“Rhaegar,” Lyanna calls softly in the semidarkness. 

“Aye.” His hand is creeping up her thigh.

“How are night terrors involving flesh-eating Dornish descendants to convince the King the North is the right match?” His head must be stuffed with rags. Lyanna grabs a tendril of hair fondly. “Assuming he even has those night terrors.”

“I shall work,” the Prince assures her. “Trust in me.”

A bloodcurdling scream disturbs the night. 


	3. Bag Of Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, [ anime333 ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/anime333/pseuds/anime333>%20anime333%20</a>:%0A%0A<img%20src=):
> 
>  
> 
> ip

_Creak_. The sound wakes Jon up in the middle of the night.

He looks around the dark bedchamber. There is nothing to be seen.

With a sigh, he closes his eyes. He should be asleep.

_Crack_. This sound ring through the camber loudly. He startles and looks up.

What could possible be making all these noises in the wee hours. This is more than he can bear. If he hears the like of this disturbance one more time, he will…

_Thud_. This one is muffled. As if furs lie on the ground. They don’t.

Jon sits up in bed, this time his mind coming up with an explanation.

There is something outside. There must be something outside. _Must_.

Slipping out from beneath the sheets, he gets another idea. With slow movement he approached the foot of the bed.

Cautiously, he lifts the lid of the chest seated there.

But nay, both the skeletons sleep. Mother and father, together forever.

_The Others_ , Jon snorts quietly, they just can’t do anything right.

 

lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joke's on you trollio. I'm a zombie. Now give me brains!


	4. And The Yellow Bark of Yarrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, I suck at poetry. But I wanted to show his majesty what "bad", for me, means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tapping gently ‘pon the table,

Fingers slim and white and able,

Stands the rare and radiant maiden,

With grey silks and gossam’er laden.

Crimson ‘pon the wooden flooring,

The dark timber f’rever staining, 

Trickles fast and trickles faster.

Yet with eyes fixed to her master

Looks she scarce upon disaster,

Such as lumber cracked, to utter:

 

“Cometh thou hence into my embrace,

Share thy heart in my resplendence.”

The knight helm from armour loses

‘Pon the blessed face enthuses.

 

And within the chamber steps he,

“Smile the ‘morrows upon me maiden,

For thy eyes have made me craven.”

 

In the stillness smiles she softer,

‘Pon the tables places she cluster

Of blue roses from last winter.

Calls she hither, ever hither.

 

“’Tis not I, Your Grace, beseeching,

From beyond the river reaching,

Reaching for a hand unheld.”

Thus his amour quelled, he stumbles,

The black tear in ripples crumbles

Armour plate; the first ruby tumbles.

 

Water burns through all the pathways.

 

Shatters ‘pon him does the hammer,

And no maiden hand holds after.

Let him sink, and let him suffer.

For the gods to him have spoken,

Laughing at the honour broken,

In the path of greatness beholden.

 

“Hath I, maiden, naught but sorrow,

I would ask still for my morrow

That the paths of your road follow.

Think you it is of me callow,

I will but in your light hallow. ”

 

But the current no mercy showing,

Pulls the Prince from maiden glowing. 

 

In the tower waits a flower,

Scattered petals, face so dour.

Woman made is she by sorrow,

Sees she yet the great, long barrow.

 

“Sweet babe fates seek now to shatter,

Never let thy fate be scattered.

From my loves you are the latter,

Never loved I any better.”

Kiss of death entreats the mother,

For now she is not the other.

Goes her own way, does the maiden,

Ghosts left in her sorrow waken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't blame me, I was listening to Poe.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, yeah. Thin skin, I know. Paper thin.


End file.
